


Bitten, Not Smitten

by Mogseltof



Series: Not a 'Thing' [1]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 18:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogseltof/pseuds/Mogseltof
Summary: It's not necessarily a werewolf thing. It's not even a hundred percent avampirething! Angua isn't sure how this... Thing happened, but that isn'tnecessarilya complaint. It's not even a Thing, because it definitely isn't going to happen again.





	Bitten, Not Smitten

As always, no one gave them a second glance when they walked Biers. Instead of heading for the bar, however, Sally took Angua’s arm in an iron grip and made for one of the little round tables at the back of the room. Angua’s suspicions deepened as she sat down. “You want to talk,” she said flatly. “Woman to woman. What is it that it has to be said here instead of the watchhouse?”

“I am not having girl talk at the watchhouse,” said Sally, arching an eyebrow at Angua.

Angua started to rise from the table. “You said nothing about _girl talk_ -”

“It's about Carrot.”

“Then I'm definitely going to need something to drink,” said Angua. “ _Not_ a cocktail,” she added.

“I'll have a Bloody Mary,” said Sally with an affected grimace.

Angua rolled her eyes and pushed away from the table, striding over to the bar. In Biers you got ignored, but it wasn't the kind of ignored that a watchman (or woman as the case may be) would get at any other establishment in the city. It was the kind of ignored that was practised so long you didn't have to work at it. Angua appreciated Biers. She returned to the table with a… red drink with a limp bit of greenery sticking out of the top and a pint of beer for herself.

“So. Carrot,” she said as she sat down, passing the drink to Sally. Cold fingers brushed her own as she handed the glass over, and Angua felt something inside her flip. Vampires.

“Carrot,” said Sally, carefully discarding the limp green thing that might once have been called celery. “He walked me home after my shift the other night.”

“He was probably worried about unlicensed thieves,” said Angua with a snort, taking a drink of her beer.

“Hmm, that's what I thought too,” said Sally, eyeing her drink. “But then he offered to walk me to my shift the next morning.”

“So?” said Angua, half wishing she could arch an eyebrow right back at her.

“So,” said Sally, still not looking up and choosing her words with an irksome amount of care. “I thought I should talk to you about it.”

“Why?” said Angua bluntly, putting her glass down. “He's a free man. Dwarf. He can walk wherever he likes, as long as you're okay with him walking you. Because you so obviously need it.”

“Well, he’s your…”

“Yes, and?” said Angua sharply. “Spit it out, Sally, and stop looking at me like I’m going to jump across the table and rip your throat out.” In Sally, who had a disarming amount of control over her expressions it was just weird, and maybe a little insulting.

“Well frankly, Angua, everyone knows he’s _yours_ ,” said Sally, finally looking up.

“Well, _everyone_ can go stick their head up a woolly--” started Angua, hackles rising.

“Angua you practically wag your tail everytime you’re in the same room! He walks past and you’ve got eyes on anyone near him! I know we’ll never be ‘best friends’, but I don’t think that means I want your, your _boyfriend_ stepping out on you!”

Angua felt the strangest urge to laugh. “Carrot’s not my boyfriend,” she said, draining her glass. “If you want to ‘step out’ with him that’s up to you.”

“Oh yeah? What happened to ‘ _he’s mine_ ’?” asked Sally, licking a red rim off her lip, showing the slightest hint of fang. Angua felt her stomach flip again and leaned forward on her elbows, trying to ignore the stink of vampire.

“He is mine,” she said flatly. “Or maybe you’re right and I’m his. So? Carrot. Can. Step out. With. Whoever. He. Likes. Doesn’t bother me.”

“Sounds like it bothers you,” said Sally, ignoring the drink on the table and leaning in, lacing her fingers together. Stupid vampire with her stupidly delicate wrists and fingers.

“Well it doesn’t,” said Angua bluntly.

“Well, I don’t want him stepping out with me,” said Sally. “Any advice?”

“Tell him that?” suggested Angua.

“ _You_ don’t.”

“It’s a werewolf thing.”

“Bull _shit_ ,” said Sally, pointing at her. “That is bullshit, it doesn’t have to be a ‘werewolf thing’ and you know it.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” snapped Angua, the hair on the back of her neck bristling -- and this was _ridiculous,_ the moon was waning for goodness sake!

“It _means_ ,” said Sally deliberately, “that even if he is ‘ _yours_ ’--” finger quotes with _her_ stupidly neat fingernails looked almost obscene, “-- you don’t always have to be _his_.” She folded her hands on the table as if that settled matters.

 _Vampires_.

“That clears nothing up,” said Angua flatly.

Sally threw her hands up in the air. “Sometimes I honestly wonder how you made Sergeant.”

Angua scowled at her. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

“You’re the copper, you figure it out.” Sally leaned back, arms folded over her chest.

Angua stood up again, collecting her glass. “If you’re going to play games, I’m going to get another drink,” she said.

Sally sighed and stood, leaning over to place a cold hand on Angua’s wrist. “Wait, no, I’m sorry.”

Flummoxed, Angua paused, staring at Sally’s hand on her arm.

“I’ve gone about this all wrong,” Sally continued. “I’m not actually trying to upset you, you know.”

“Well you’re doing a great job of that,” said Angua, nonplussed.

“I know right? All I need is the hat and we’d have a three ring circus.” Sally smiled self deprecatingly and gently tugged on Angua’s arm, sitting down again. Angua sat with her, watching Sally’s fingers, bemused. They were still clutching her arm, almost possessive. What exactly was she playing at? “I shouldn’t have started with Carrot at all,” said Sally, sounding repentant. “He’s not what I really want to talk about.”

“Then what is this talk about -- woman to woman,” asked Angua, narrowing her eyes.

“The suspicion really is twenty-four/eight with you, isn’t it,” said Sally with a sigh, and to Angua’s surprise she leaned over the table and kissed her right on the mouth.

It was cold, and tasted of that horrendous vampire stench mixed with what was probably tomato juice. Angua mashed her lips back against Sally’s, a growl rising in the back of her throat. She felt… Hairy, and a part of her wanted to howl in satisfaction. When they parted, Sally looked a strange mix of pleased and nervous. “Shit,” she said, biting her lip, that damn fang hooked over the plump redness against pale skin. “I was hoping you’d take it better than that.”

“What do you mean?” growled Angua, hackles all the way up. Her hair was a mess, she could _feel_ it. She could _really_ use a chicken right about now --

“I need a beetroot,” said Sally, planting both her hands on the table and pushing herself up.

“Sit down!” barked Angua, her hands curling into fists on the table top.[1]

Sally sat.

“Constable Humpeding explain yourself,” growled out Angua.

Sally folded her arms over her chest and gave Angua a disbelieving look. “What do you need me to explain?” she said archly, in that smug, superior tone Angua just wanted to wipe away, preferably with her _tongue_ \-- wait, what? “I thought I made myself perfectly clear,” Sally continued, ignoring Angua’s internal monologue and moving to stand up again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m done making a fool of myself, so I’ll just --”

Angua lunged and grabbed Sally’s hand, pulling her halfway over the table and kissing her firmly. There was a clash of fangs against teeth, then Sally made a soft noise, reaching up to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss and turning it into something soft that tingled down Angua’s spine.

Someone coughed.

Sally and Angua sprang apart. They stared at each other blankly, and Angua was suddenly conscious of how badly her hair was mussed. “I hate this place,” blurted Sally, straightening her blouse. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Sure,” said Angua, pushing away from the table.

“My place or yours?” asked Sally, rallying with a smile that was probably meant to be charming but mostly made Angua want to punch her. With her mouth.

“Mine,” said Angua firmly, pushing down the thoughts starting to arise along with the wolf.

Sally, luckily for her continued health, didn’t try to take Angua’s hand as they left Biers.

Angua’s current landlady was a no nonsense woman who went to bed early, left the back window open, approved of having a watch-woman on the premises, and had warned Angua about bringing young men home. Angua hadn’t thought to ask for her opinion on older vampires, but she kept quiet as she walked Sally up to her room anyway. Sally, naturally, didn’t even have to try to move silently.

The door had barely closed before Angua crowded Sally up against it. Sally smirked, an infuriating expression that only lasted as long as it took for Angua to kiss her. “Shut. Up,” muttered Angua, straight into her mouth.

Sally wrapped an arm around Angua’s shoulder and pushed a hand into her hair. “I didn’t say anything,” she murmured back.

“You were _thinking_ it,” growled Angua.

Sally laughed, a musical tone that set Angua’s teeth on edge, and kissed her again, hand curling in Angua’s hair. Angua kissed her back, slow and firm, fangs gently scraping over her lower lip, one hand braced against the door by Sally’s head. Sally’s free hand migrated down her back to pluck at the fabric above the trousers she wore and find the skin at the small of her back, and Sally pulled her head just far enough back to smirk again and murmur; “Your bed is just over there.”

Angua nodded, her mind a whirlwind, and stepped backwards, letting Sally tug her over to the bed. At the last moment, before she sat, Sally kicked Angua’s legs out from under her and pushed her down onto the blanket, straddling her waist. Angua wanted to protest the boots on her bed, but the words died on her lips as Sally reached up to her chest and started to unbutton her blouse. Angua’s breath caught in her throat and she raised a hand to grip the skin at Sally’s waist, fingers digging into the pale flesh. Sally threw her shirt across the room, and it landed in Angua’s basket, causing a possessive growl to rise in Angua’s throat.

“Oh, oh we’re exploring that later,” Sally breathed out, letting her hand drift down to trace Angua’s jaw and running a hand under the edge of her collar.

Angua growled, properly, and swung her hips up and around, flipping them and pinning Sally to the bed. “Or we could not,” she growled out.

Sally laughed, reaching up and grabbing Angua’s shirt to pull her down and kiss her in a mess of fangs again. “Oh we will,” she assured her. “And you’re wearing too many clothes for this.”

She started in on Angua’s shirt, deft fingers with neat nails slipping the buttons from their loops. “You don’t wear a brasserie?” she said, surprised as she pushed Angua’s shirt off her shoulders.

“You’ve seen me naked before, this shouldn’t surprise you,” said Angua irritably, pushing at the laces of Sally’s. “Besides, I don’t need it, it’s just one more thing to get in the way.”

Sally reached up and squeezed one of Angua’s breasts, rubbing a soft thumb over the nipple, making Angua shiver. “Well you’re certainly right about that.” She leaned up and kissed Angua hard. “Unhook me.”

Angua reached behind Sally and unhooked the clasp of the brasserie. It followed the trajectory of Sally’s shirt, and then they were kissing again, chest to chest. Sally moaned into Angua’s mouth, and oh, that _had_ to be affected -- but Angua returned the noise without meaning to, kissing Sally back hungrily. Sally gripped her tightly, and Angua ground down against her, eliciting a gasp.

With a wriggle of her wrist, Sally got a hand between them and attacked the ties on Angua’s trousers. Angua made a grunting noise at the welcome new pressure on her crotch, and Sally nipped her lip victoriously as she wormed her fingers down into the trousers and stroked firmly, finding the warm dampness that made Angua groan.

Angua pressed her face into Sally’s neck as fingers found her clit and rubbed in persistently gentle circles. Sally gave one long lathe with her fingers then pulled her hand back, licking her fingers off with a wide grin. “Oh, bite me,” said Angua, rolling her eyes.

“Trust me, there are other things you want my mouth to be doing,” said Sally, gripping Angua’s hips and tugging. “Get up here and I’ll show you.”

Angua unlaced her trousers the the rest of the way and shoved them down awkwardly, shuffling up with the persistent guidance of Sally’s wandering hands that roamed her hips and backside. Angua moaned as Sally licked a stripe right up between her folds, lips latching onto her clit and sucking hard. She buried her hands in Sally’s short hair and gripped tightly as Sally started up an enthusiastic assault with her tongue. It didn’t take long til Angua was grinding back down against her with erratic, panting breaths, her hips rocking seemingly of their own accord. What she could see of Sally was flushed and messy beneath her, and the movements of her mouth were relentless.

Angua cried out, her grip tightening to what surely had to be a painful degree, as heat boiled low in her spine and started shooting sparks up her back, making her twitch with pleasure. If anything, Sally’s efforts redoubled, her tongue flicking around her clit in a warm, wet path, one hand gripping Angua’s arse while the other dug into the outside of her thigh. Angua moaned, her hip thrusts taking on a stuttering rhythm, cheeks heating, and she could feel her hair moving down her back, sweat soaked and almost alive. Sally was making urgent little noises beneath her, her fingers digging into Angua’s skin so hard Angua wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises there later.

Sally’s tongue slipped to one side and Angua cried out again, hips jerking forward as pleasure jolted through her in an intense bolt. Sally repeated the motion once, twice, and on the third time Angua tipped over the edge with a hair raising howl, spine jerking forward.

When she came back down, thighs shaking where they bracketed Sally’s head, Sally was gently lathing her over her with soft, steady motions, rocking her through the aftershocks. Angua pulled back and flopped on her side next to Sally with a grunt, feeling oversensitive and wracked. If she was a mess, though, Sally was a wreck.

Her hair was thoroughly mussed, sticking in all directions, and her chin was sticky with fluids Angua preferred not to think about. Her eyes were bright and she was grinning through the glistening liquid, fangs just poking out. Some part of Angua’s hindbrain reared up, the urge to kiss Sally at the forefront of her mind. Sally’s tongue flicked out and licked her lips, darting between the fangs, still grinning. “You taste good,” she informed Angua, and Angua had to quash the urge to kiss her as best she could once more.

“Don’t do the vampire thing,” she said, hating that it came out breathless.

“Why? You were all for me not breathing a minute ago,” said Sally, propping herself up on one elbow and running a cool palm over Angua’s breast and torso.

Angua leaned into the petting despite herself. _Good girl_ , whispered a tiny, sadistic part of her brain. She ignored it. “I showed mine,” she said instead, reaching down to unlace Sally’s own trousers.

“Oh I can’t wait to show you mine,” said Sally, her grin widening even further if that was possible. She kicked her boots off onto the floor and helped Angua with the laces, shoving the fabric down until Angua had one Salacia Von Humpeding naked in her bed.

Ugh. Even her crotch was well groomed and elegant.

“Don’t be shy about it,” said Sally, tracing a line from Angua’s snail trail all the way up to her jaw, tilting her chin up and leaning in to kiss her. By now she tasted familiar and hungry, with a flavour overlay that Angua was _not_ thinking about.

Instead of thinking about it, Angua traced a hand along Sally’s side, following the curves of her body until she found the juncture of her thighs. Angua pushed her fingers through the short hair gently and found a considerable amount of slick to work with already, softly rubbing her fingers back and forth. Sally moaned into her mouth, her legs parting slightly, and Angua pushed deeper.

It wasn’t hard to slip a finger inside her, and Sally hummed, wrapping an arm around Angua’s head, pushing it into the crook of her neck. Angua curled her finger and Sally breathed out slowly, fingers flexing in Angua’s hair. “Angua,” she murmured.

Slowly, Angua worked another finger in alongside the first, Sally making small noises of encouragement by her ear. Angua kept curling her fingers, scraping the tips of them just past a soft, spongy point she could feel under her callouses, and Sally made a stifled noise, clenching around her. “Angua!”

Angua pressed her fingers into that spot again and twisted them, making Sally clench even tighter with a muffled curse. Smiling against Sally’s skin, Angua slid her thumb up against Sally’s clit and rubbed it gently at the same time as she curled her fingers.

Sally let out a long moan and rocked into Angua’s hand as Angua set an even pace with her fingers and thumb, making Sally writhe and twitch against her. Her fingers flexed erratically up against Angua’s skull and she moaned Angua’s name, louder this time.

“B-bite me,” she said all of a sudden, clenching on Angua’s fingers. “Angua, bite me!”

Angua didn’t think, just complied, biting down on the juncture of Sally’s neck and shoulder as she sped up the motions of her hand.

Sally keened, shaking, and pressed her face into Angua’s hair with a sob, hips rolling. “More, more, Angua, _please_ ,” she bit out, and at this rate Angua was going to get a wrist cramp, so she did the only thing she could think of and bit her again.

Sally gasped and jerked her hips away, leaving Angua’s finger cold in the sir of the room. She shook like a leaf in Angua’s arms for several moments, clutching onto her tightly, and Angua could feel her heart in her mouth.

Slowly, Sally relaxed against her, and Angua stroked down her back gently, conscious of the cool, naked body pressed against hers. Sally petted through Angua’s hair quietly as she calmed against her, kissing her head.

“I’m not ‘yours’,” said Angua after a moment, feeling a little foolish.

Sally snorted. “No, I’d believe that. I wouldn’t exactly say you’re Carrot’s, though.”

Angua kept quiet, and kissed the marks her teeth had made in Sally’s shoulder, breathing out slowly into the night.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> 11This was the other best thing about Biers. No one cared if you left claw marks on the tables. [return to text]
> 
> \---
> 
> I was rereading thud then fadedlikethelilac and I had a bimonthly discussion of how Carrot/Angua is a teensy bit fucked up and Wouldn't It be Great if Sally and Angua Got Together and then this happened. Non porny sequel in the works currently


End file.
